Night Lament
by Victor4418
Summary: Depressing, sad, but heartfelt. Don't read if you wish to remain happy. A short glimpse into life past the HTTYD 2 movie.


**Author's Note:** A quick little thought I had and wanted to jot down. It's a bit sad, but also touching. It's also written from a general point of view and I specifically left out the main character's name, but I'm sure you can figure out who I am talking about… Enjoy!

* Also, I do not own any of the HTTYD characters, ideas, or copyrights. Just the merchandise. *

The stars were just appearing in the sky as twilight fell over the village of Berk. There was only one person looking at them through his bedroom skylight, enjoying their simplicity and beauty. Compared to the village, they were timeless and unchanging, keeping their same vigil every night. How he wished that the same could be said for him. He missed so many things now that he was old and wanted to remember all of them so as not to forget how special each person and event was. Looking over the village, he saw the changes that had been made and could only stare in awe and just how far Berk had come.

The village was practically a dragon's dream come true of Dragontopia. The village was accommodating to all their needs and wants, relying on them to complete all kinds of tasks as well as giving them time to relax and be their own unique self. Everyone had a dragon assigned to them at birth, learning about each other and forming a bond that could not be described. Peace had been blessed on the village since the unification of the tribes through the treaties that granted other villages dragon trainers to allow them dragon riders. Now a unified whole, the tribes benefited each other in protecting their homes and the homes of their neighbors quite easily. With such a large group, no one opposed the villages of dragon riders. Each year, a celebration that lasted a month was held between the islands, allowing for traveling, games, and weddings to take place. It was the most cherished and loved holiday outside of Snoggletog. Even the dragons participated in the celebration, competing and finding their own mates.

While it was still a while until the celebration, the man knew he wouldn't be apart of it. He was reaching the end of his life, with every day getting closer to meeting those who had passed before him in Valhalla. He could feel it each morning when he woke, and the aches were a bit worse, the mornings a bit colder, and the loneliness and foreboding a bit stronger. His only concern now was making sure that someone would look over his dragon companion when he passed. His kids rarely visited him, too busy preparing their children to run the village of Berk and prep for their own grandchildren to arrive (his great-grandchildren). The only time he really saw any of his kids was by accident when their routine was off track and they happened to bump into him on their way to another errand. He didn't miss all the chiefly duties that were required of him to run the village, but he did miss his family. He secretly wondered if this is what his wife had felt like when he first became chief. He had rarely been home the first year he became chief, only seeing his love a few times a week for a couple of hours.

Deciding a flight was in order, the man stood up on his good leg, adjusting the peg on his left leg so it fit more comfortably. His dragon watched him from his bed, then stood up from his bed, his knees creaking as he shuffled over to his human companion. Patting the dragon on the head, they walked to the front door together. Once outside, the man shut his front door and turned towards the cliffs. "Ready for a flight bud?" The dragon spread his wings in response, waiting for the man to climb on. It took a minute to do so, adjusting the peg and getting in a comfortable spot in the saddle. It amazed him how strong his friend was after all these years, still able to fly at their age. Once he was ready, he patted his friend on the head and they took off.

Anyone who looked at the sky now would not be able to see the two clearly. The dragon was pitch black and could only be found by looking for stars that would disappear for a second, then reappear. By then, the dragon had already flown past and would block other stars from view as it flew overhead. The man enjoyed the night, reveling in the peace that washed over him from all the memories of flying he had over the years. They circled the village once, twice, then landed on a hill just outside of the village. There was a gravestone there, marking the burial of a Viking that had died with dignity and honor. "Astrid Haddock, wife of Hiccup Haddock the Third, most feared Viking woman of the Archapelago". The man climbed off his friend's back and rubbed his hand on the gravestone lovingly before sitting beside it and leaning against it. Sighing, he watched the moonlight reflect off the waves. He truly missed his wife, never expecting to outlive her. She was the tougher one out of the two of them, she was meant to lead the village and watch their grandchildren grow up. She wasn't meant to die before him and he wished she was still there. It had been a long five years and he wasn't sure how he had managed to live this long without her.

The morning they had found his wife had passed, he had woken up next to her and tried to kiss her on the cheek to wake her up. When his lips had touched her, the skin was cold, and he noticed she wasn't breathing, It had come as a shock and he was lucky that one of his children had decided to visit him a few hours later to ask a question about one of the new dragons they had discovered. Upon entering the house, his child had found him simply sitting on the bed holding his wife's hand as he stared out the window. The village had mourned for a week straight after discovering their chief's wife had passed. He was grateful that she had felt no pain, even if she had wanted to go out in a fiery explosion of awesomeness.

After an hour, the man decided it was time to head back, the brisk air nipping his skin and freezing him to the bone, even with all the layers he wore. The dragon stood up from his resting spot, shaking out a few muscles before returning to Berk with his companion. The man led the way into the house, enjoying the warmth of the fire from the fireplace that the dragon created as it walked by. Grabbing his notebook, the man sat at the table and began to write a note to his children, sensing he would not be able to give it to them himself. Another hour passed and when he was finished, he left his pencil on the notebook before retiring to his chair in the living room. The cushions were so soft that he simply sank into the chair. Grabbing the blanket from the basket next to the chair, he wrapped himself in its warmth and patted his friend on the head as he watched the flames. The dragon nuzzled his human back before curling in on himself and purring in contentment. As the flames died, the man and dragon fell asleep.

The next morning, the dragon woke up to the cold living room, the fire long dead. He shot a flame into the fireplace, reigniting the fuel so his human would not be cold when he woke. He went to nudge his friend and found him unable to wake up. Nudging him again, he saw the human' skin was pale. Confused, he tried once more to wake his friend, thinking that if he could wake him and get him closer to the fire, he would feel better. It wasn't until he found his friend wasn't breathing that he all began to make sense to the dragon. Mourning his companion, the dragon let out a sad, wailing roar that alerted all the nearby dragons of his loss. The dragons picked up the roar and alerted the villagers that something was wrong. The chief followed the dragons to his father's hut and opened the door, worried that his father was hurt. He walked in to see the dragon he had known all his life crying as he continued to roar his agony to all that would listen. The chief walked over to the dragon, shushing him as he would a baby that needed help.

"Hey Toothless, what's wrong?"

Toothless ignored him and leaned back on the chair, diverting the chief's attention to his father who sat in the chair, sleeping. Only. He wasn't sleeping. Sadness enveloped the chief as he collapsed to his knees and grabbed his father's cold hand. Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, he was surprised to find other villagers at arrived at the house. The news spread quickly that the great chief, Hiccup Haddock the Third, Uniter of Dragons and Men, Savior of Berk, had passed away in the night.

Three weeks later, a dragon could be found on the top of a hill, sitting next to a freshly placed gravestone. It sat beside an older gravestone, the two overlooking the village and the ocean. The dragon had not eaten or drank since the gravestone had been placed, nor could anyone convince the dragon to return to the village. Sensing the dragon was heartbroken and unable to leave his companion, they accepted his choice and left him to mourn in his own way. It was no surprise that the villagers would later find he had passed on the hill, watching over the gravestones as a loyal dog would its owner. Thus ended the story of the two greatest legacies of Berk and the beginning of a new era for Vikings and dragons alike.

"Welcome home, bud. We've been waiting for you." A hand extended out to the dragon, a smile on his human companion's face. The dragon was overjoyed to see him and all his human and dragon companions that had passed before him. Following his friend, they walked together towards the rest of the group, ready to spend eternity together.

Author's Note: Yes, I am aware that Vikings would send their deceased on boats and set them on fire, however I felt it would be more touching for the dragon and the human companion to be able to visit the site of their lost loved one and later be put to rest next to their loved one. Hopefully the story wasn't too depressing, but I wanted to pull a few heartstrings while writing this piece. Thank you.


End file.
